Beaver Meets the Brit
by Gandalf15
Summary: The Cleavers take in a lost stranger that will turn the world of them and others upside down.
1. Part 1

**-Beaver Meets the Brit-**

* * *

 **(This is one of my weirder stories, which is saying something if you've read any of my others. XD Just to warn you, the anachronisms of two properties from different decades coming together are never really explained. But, I believe I've covered everything else.)**

* * *

-Chapter One-

June Cleaver examined her fingers. They looked remarkably like pink prunes, which usually happened when one was washing dishes. This didn't bother June, as it was a labor of love. All these dirty dishes meant that her family was eating heartily.

June heard the door open and someone walk into the kitchen behind her. Following that, she heard her husband say "June? Sorry I'm late."

June paused and turned to face her husband. He was a strong-looking man with a rugged chin and an upbeat demeanor. "That's alright, dear. Did they have you do some extra work? Or did Fred Rutherford corner you by the water-cooler again?"

Ward wiped his shoes on the mat and glanced out the door behind him. "Neither, actually. Apparently, our city won a country-wide contest. A party of tourists from England are coming to America to observe the differences between our two countries, and Mayfield was selected as the ideal American city."

June turned back to her dishes and said "Well that's wonderful, dear, but why were you late?"

"Er, the bus the tourists were on broke down right on the road I was taking home, and they had me just sit there while they were fixing the problem and the tourists got out and walked around. There was one peculiar-looking fellow, knocked on my windshield. Do you think the British do that a lot?"

"I couldn't say, dear," replied June. "Did they ever get the bus going again?"

"Oh yes, the tourists all made a big scramble trying to hurry back on."

"I hope nobody got lost in the shuffle."

"Well, June, if they did, that'll be one more Mayfield taxpayer."

June smiled in spite of herself, but quickly remarked "Now, dear, that wouldn't be funny. They'd be stranded in another country with no transport."

Ward started to take his briefcase upstairs. "I suppose you're right, dear. Are the boys home?"

June nodded. "They're upstairs. I finally persuaded them to pick up their own dirty socks." Ward started up the stairs, and was about to jokingly ask his wife what kind of mother made you pick up your own socks, when he heard a young voice holler "Hey Mom, Dad!"

Ward sighed and yelled back "What is it, Beaver? What's so important that you have to yell instead of walking down the stairs?"

"There's a MAN in the middle of the street, Dad!" Beaver shouted. "What? A man?" called Ward, not sure that he'd heard right.

Little Beaver, and his older brother, sandy-haired Wally, appeared at the top of the stairs. Beaver continued "Yeah! Standin' right out in the middle of the street!" Wally added "He keeps lookin' at a map! He looks like he's lost or something!"

Ward and June rushed to a window and looked out onto the street. Sure enough, a man was standing right in the middle of the street, seemingly oblivious to all the honking cars that swerved to avoid him. "Say, that's the odd little fellow that tapped on my windshield!" Ward exclaimed.

The man on the street was acting very peculiar. Still ignoring the traffic, he would look up from his map, look left, look right, scratch his chin, look back at his map, look up again, look left, look right, scratch his chin, and look back at his map. He repeated these motions like clockwork.

"There's going to be an accident if he doesn't get out of there!" June cried. Ward rushed out the front door, followed by the rest of the family, and tried to get the man's attention. "Hey!" He called. "Look out! You're going to get hit!" The others also tried to get his attention.

The man looked up, smiled, and waved at them genially. Ward cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted "YOU, THERE! LOOK OUT!" The man held his hand to his ear, indicating that he couldn't hear them, then held up one finger as if to say, _hang on a second._

As the Cleaver family watched in disbelief, the man folded up his map and casually started to walk across the road toward them. It seemed to be pure luck that the cars and trucks missed flattening him by mere centimeters as he strolled toward the Cleavers' front lawn.

The man reached the Cleavers and stepped onto the sidewalk, exactly one second before a large pickup drove over the spot where he had just been standing. The family sighed in relief, and Beaver exclaimed "Gee whiz, Mister, those cars nearly squashed you!" Ward said "You gave us quite a scare there, Mister. You alright?" The man nodded and, with an air of importance, drew himself up and said "Bean."

"Bean?" asked June, confused. The man pointed to himself and said "Mm-hmm. Bean. Ah- _Mister_ Bean." His British accent was deep and rather goofy-sounding.

"Oh!" exclaimed June and Ward. Ward cleared his throat and said "Well, nice to meet you, Mister Bean. I'm Ward Cleaver and this my wife, June, and our children, Wally and Theodore."

Mr. Bean shook hands with Ward, then knelt down and kissed June's hand gallantly. June was just about to remark on what a gentleman he was, when she noticed that something was wrong. Mr. Bean's face had turned purple, and he started to gasp.

Mr. Bean jumped up and grabbed his throat, making strangled gags. "What's wrong?" asked Ward, alarmed, and started to pat him on the back. June looked down and yelped.

"My wedding ring!" she cried. "It's gone!" Wally's eyes widened. "Hey! I think he SWALLOWED it!" "He's choking on it!" shrieked June.

Suddenly, Beaver remembered last month, when his class had learned some First Aid from a doctor that had visited the school. Not stopping to think, he ran forward and grabbed the choking Mr. Bean around the waist and squeezed the way the doctor had shown them.

After a second, a small shiny object came flying out of Mr. Bean's mouth. Beaver let go and Mister Bean doubled over, gasping as the purple drained out of his face. "Are you alright?" Ward asked anxiously.

Mr. Bean looked up, not at Ward, but at Beaver. "Saved… saved my life," he wheezed. Beaver backed away, saying "Aw, gee, I-I was just-" he stopped, astonished, as Mr. Bean got down on his hands and knees, head bowed, and proclaimed "Your servant!"

Behind them, Ward coughed awkwardly. "Um- yes, well, Mr. Bean, you were on the bus, correct? What happened?"

Mr. Bean stood up and shrugged. "Er… the bu-bus left. Wasn't on it." Ward nodded. "No wonder, with all those people stampeding to get back in." "Oh dear," June breathed. "What became of your luggage?"

Mr. Bean reached down his side, as if reaching for an invisible suitcase. Then, after grasping at the air, he looked down and let out a bloodcurdling shriek.

The Cleavers jumped, and Mr. Bean wildly looked around in panic. He then started to run up and down the street and shouting "TEDDY! TEDDY! TEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDY!"

Ward caught Mr. Bean by the shoulder. "Calm down, calm down! Do you remember where you left your luggage, and -er- Teddy?"

Mr. Bean took a deep breath and scratched his chin. Then he scratched his head. Then he winked one eye, and then the other. Then he whirled his head around as if he had a stiff neck. Then he bent over forwards at the waist, then backwards. Wally whispered to Beaver "Is this guy for real?"

Finally, Mr. Bean threw up his hands and waggled his head like a dog, which the Cleavers took to mean _no_. He collapsed onto the lawn and put his head in his hands. Ward and June looked at each other. Ward cleared his throat. "Er- cheer up, old man, maybe we could lend you a change of clothes while you find a hotel."

Mr. Bean looked up hopefully, but Beaver said "But, gee, Dad, how will he get a hotel room if all he has is British money, like in that one picture?"

Everyone stared at Beaver. Wally actually glanced around, as if looking for someone else who might have said it. It was no surprise that this obvious fact had evaded Mr. Bean, but all of the Cleavers but Beaver?

After an awkward silence, Ward coughed and said "Er- you're right, Beaver. Well… I suppose… you could stay with us? For the night, anyway?"

June looked worried. She whispered to Ward "Dear? D-do you think that's a good idea?" Ward murmured back "Well, June, it's like what we were talking about earlier. He's stranded in a foreign country with no money. He's got nowhere else to go."

When Mr. Bean had processed what they were offering, he joyously jumped up and nodded vigorously. He then moved to hug Ward, who reflexively backed away. Then he turned back to the Beaver, and inclined his head, once again intoning "Your servant."

Much to Beaver's confusion, Mr. Bean proceeded take Beaver's baseball cap off of his head and delicately carry it in his hands like a crown on a cushion.

Privately, June worried that they had made the right decision.

* * *

-Chapter Two-

The door to the kitchen opened and in stepped Mr. Bean. Despite the mundaneness of the small kitchen, Mr. Bean gaped around as if it was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. He nearly tripped over the shoe rack.

The Cleavers followed him in. Ward tapped Mr. Bean on the shoulder, causing him to jump. "The sitting-room is this way, won't you sit down?" Mr. Bean nodded and dutifully followed Ward out of the kitchen and through the hallway, pausing only to briefly marvel at the stairs.

The Cleavers' sitting-room was clean and cozy, much like the Cleavers themselves. Ward gestured to a chair, and Mr. Bean lowered himself into it, slowly and reverently. June and the boys entered, and June joined Ward on the sofa. "I'm sorry if the house seems a bit untidy," she said, "We really weren't expecting company." Ward opened his mouth, then closed it. He had been about to offer Mr. Bean a pipe, then remembered how he'd nearly killed himself by just kissing a hand and thought better of it.

"Well, I think I'll go make us something to snack on," said June. Mr. Bean started to get up and say "I'll help-"

"NO, no, thank you, I can manage. I'll only be a moment."

Mr. Bean started to sit back down, then seemed to notice Beaver standing with Wally beside the couch. He immediately jumped back up and gestured warmly at the chair to Beaver. Beaver, realizing that Mr. Bean was offering it to him, shook his head and said "Oh, um… no thanks, mister, I-I'm okay."

At this, Mr. Bean grabbed the chair and pushed it noisily across the sitting-room to behind the Beaver. Beaver was rather embarrassed but felt that he couldn't refuse now, so he started to sit down into it. Suddenly, Mr. Bean shrieked

"WAIT!"

Ward and Wally both started, and Beaver jumped up in alarm. "What is it? What's wrong?" he cried.

Mr. Bean dusted off the cushion and plumped it up. Then he gestured for Beaver to sit back down.

Ward and the boys sighed in relief, and Beaver collapsed into the chair, red-faced. Ward put his hand on his heart and said "You gave us quite a scare _again_ , Mr. Bean. Er- so what do you do for a living?"

Mr. Bean said nothing for a moment. Then he started to mumble something incoherent. Ward leaned toward him, but couldn't make out what he was saying any better. Mr. Bean started to wave his hand around dismissively, and looked off into the middle distance as he muttered, but didn't raise his voice.

Ward started to ask "Sorry, I couldn't make that out, what were you-?" when June came in carrying a plate of finger sandwiches. The men appreciatively helped themselves.

Ward bit into his, then looked up and said "Pardon me, Mr. Bean, but… I think the Beaver can feed himself his sandwich."

* * *

-Chapter Three-

After the refreshments, Wally was asked to go up and show Mr. Bean the guest room. Wally's patience was admirable as Mr. Bean poked around the room, looked in the drawers, and experimentally bounced on the bed a little.

Back downstairs, Ward and June were discussing their outlandish guest. Ward was sympathetic with him, but June was worried about him staying in the house with them. "He just seems…" she said, which actually summed up his character nicely.

"He _is_ rather odd," Ward conceded, "but he's isolated right in the middle of the United States. He has nowhere else to turn to. And he seems to have a sense of integrity. I mean, the Beaver stopped him from choking, and he made himself his servant!"

"And that's another thing, dear. Assuming he does genuinely want to be Beaver's servant, will he still want to leave eventually? And come to think of it, how will he even be able to leave?"

Ward shrugged. "I suppose we'll have to find his luggage. Hopefully he can remember where he left it before his group leaves the city. In the meantime, he is our guest, and we will treat him hospitably."

June sighed and said "Yes, you're right, he is a guest. And he is devoted to helping the Beaver. I have to admit that that is rather endearing." And she turned back to dinner.

Dinner was roast beef. As soon as Ward called "Soup's on!" Mr. Bean jumped up from the magazine's he had been reading in the sitting-room. He rushed into the dining room and pulled out the chair for the Beaver. Beaver, still slightly discomfited, sat down –and crashed to the floor. Mr. Bean had accidentally pulled the chair out too far.

After everyone had sat down and gotten situated, Mr. Bean began eating with extreme gusto, making loud noises of satisfaction all the while. Everyone else awkwardly tried to overlook this and make conversation with their company. They quickly discovered that Mr. Bean apparently wasn't the over-dinner-chatting type. He answered all questions directed at him with mumbles and mutterings that he seemed to assume the Cleavers would understand. The highlight of the meal- for Wally at least -was when Mr. Bean enthusiastically tried to pass Beaver the salt and ended up spilling it all over him.

After the main course, June brought out some chocolate cake for dessert. Mr. Bean at least knew how to keep the icing on hid plate, but Beaver's patience was running thin as Mr. Bean kept trying to slip him some of his own cake.

After dinner, Beaver had a word with his mother about this annoyance. Usually a polite boy, Mr. Bean's attempts at servitude had done a number on Beaver's nerves.

"Gee, Mom, I know he's a guest and stuff, but he's drivin' me crazy!" "Sssshhhh!" reprimanded June, glancing around to make sure that Mr. Bean wasn't around. "I know how you're feeling, but Mr. Bean is only trying to repay you for saving his life. It's really an honorable gesture, and there are definitely less appreciative people out there. So while he's staying with us, we need to do our best to make him feel welcome. He didn't ask to be stranded in America, you know."

Beaver nodded. "Yeah, I-I guess that makes sense. But I sure hope he doesn't try and feed me my sandwich again." June smiled in spite of herself. "Well, I think he won't do that again. He didn't at dinner, right?"

Beaver smiled too. "Sure, Mom. And chocolate is pretty good on shirts, too."

June chuckled and playfully swatted Beaver on the shoulder.

Mr. Bean was actually rather bearable for the rest of the evening. True, when Ward suggested that Wally and the Beaver go out and play catch for some bonding time, he went out with them. And true, he did keep jumping in front of the Beaver to catch the ball for him. But some positive reinforcement on the boys' part set him straight, and he spent the rest of the dying sunlight attentively watching the game from a lawn chair.

After the sun had set, Beaver and Wally let Mr. Bean put away the ball and gloves before following them into the house. When they were inside, Ward glanced at his watch and said "Well, boys, tomorrow's a school day, and today's been pretty hectic. You better head up and start getting ready for bed."

"Goodnight Mom, Dad. Goodnight Mr. Bean," The boys said. They went and started up the stairs. Mr. Bean began to follow them. June exclaimed "Oh, no, Mr. Bean -er- _you_ don't have to." Mr. Bean turned back and grunted "Tired. Turn in."

"Oh, alright then," said Ward, "Earlier I got some of my nightclothes and put them on the guest room bed. You can wear them for the night. Sleep well." Mr. Bean nodded, smiled, and followed the boys up the stairs."

As the boys got ready for bed, Beaver tried to be as polite as he could when he told Mr. Bean that he could brush his own teeth and wash himself. From these clues, Mr. Bean seemed to have guessed that Beaver might not want his help changing into his pajamas either, as he patiently waited outside the door. Wally was finding all this very entertaining indeed.

As Mr. Bean stood outside the door, Wally, trying to break the awkward silence between them, asked "So, how long are you gonna be the Beav's servant?" Mr. Bean shrugged and muttered "Till… leave."

Wally started to ask something else, but Mr. Bean suddenly jumped and looked at his finger. It was red with blood.

Mr. Bean smiled feebly at Wally and said "Go... wash." He then rushed off. Wally rubbed his head. He could wrap his brain around choking on a wedding ring, but he wasn't even going to try to figure out how Mr. Bean had managed to prick his finger on a doorknob.

The boys finished changing and got into bed. Beaver said goodnight to Mr. Bean after explaining that there was no need to tuck him in. Wally let out several strange coughs.

At last the boys were alone in their bedroom after Mr. Bean had went to the guest room. Beaver propped himself up on his elbows and said "Say, Wally, what do you think of Mr. Bean?"

Wally rolled over to face the Beaver. "Well… I think he's an "acquired taste". I've heard Mom say that about some people. Eddie Haskell says those people have a screw loose."

Beaver scratched his chin. "I think what Mom says is better. I think that's less likely to get a guy popped one." Wally nodded, and they both lay back down.

Mr. Bean sat up. He looked at the clock beside the bed. From the window's dim light, he could see that it was somewhere around two in the morning. There was a funny feeling in the pit of his gut. A watery, sloshy feeling, like a water balloon had become lodged in his intestines. Mr. Bean knew that feeling. He climbed out of bed and went to find the Cleavers' bathroom.

Mr. Bean blinked several times, the hallway light made it much brighter than the guest room. Not quite awake, he looked around, trying to remember where the bathroom had been. He yawned cavernously and leaned against the wall. The light went out.

Mr. Bean jumped. When he'd leaned against the wall, he'd accidentally switched off the light. He fumbled around in the dark, trying in vain to find it.

Had someone been observing the scene at this point, they wouldn't have seen anything. The hallway was pitch-black, no better than having your eyes shut. Had they listened carefully, however, they would have heard several frantic footsteps. Followed by a thumping sound, a grunt of pain, a crash, a smash, a cat yowl, an "Aha!", a small _click_ , and, after a moment… a toilet flushing.

* * *

-Chapter Four-

The Beaver's eyes cracked open. It was morning, and he had to get ready for school. He sat up and yawned, rubbing his groggy eyelids. Wally's bed was empty. He must have already gotten up. Beaver rose and dressed. Afterwards, he opened the bedroom door.

There was a strange man waiting to greet him on the other side.

Beaver yelped and jumped back. It wasn't until the man had lunged forward to catch him, failed and sent them both tumbling to the ground that Beaver remembered. It wasn't a stranger; it was Mr. Bean.

Beaver and Mr. Bean picked themselves up, and Mr. Bean quickly dusted off Beaver's shoulders with a feather-duster he was carrying with him. Beaver managed to utter a "Thanks," and headed downstairs. He wondered what Mr. Bean, who was now following him at what he clearly thought was a respectful distance, would do all day while Beaver was at school.

Wally was already downstairs, along with Ward and June. All three of them were eating bagels in the kitchen. Ward looked up and smiled at the two latecomers. "Well! Good morning, Mr. Bean, Beaver. Grab some bagels."

Mr. Bean took a bagel and spread some cream cheese on it. Beaver quickly said "That's good, Mr. Bean, thanks," just in time to stop him from using the feather-duster on it. Mr. Bean then prepared his own bagel, and commenced to eat it rather messily from the center out for some reason.

June glanced at the clock. "Oh, my, you boys had better had better get going. I've packed your lunches." Sure enough, there were two brown paper bags on the counter. Mr. Bean picked them both up, handing one to Wally. "Thanks," said Wally, surprised that Mr. Bean was paying attention to him as well.

Beaver held out his hand, but Mr. Bean kept holding the bag, seeming to not notice. Beaver looked bewilderedly at his parents. Ward cleared his throat awkwardly and said "Ah… Beaver needs his lunch, Mr. Bean."

Mr. Bean nodded. "Hold on to it 'til then." Ward shared a glance with June, mustered a feeble smile and said "But Mr. Bean, the Beaver needs his lunch at school!"

Mr. Bean nodded again and said "Yes. Hold on the way." June snapped her fingers. "Oh! You mean you want to walk with Beaver to school!" Mr. Bean nodded vigorously.

Ward got up to put his plate away. "Sorry, old sport. Beaver's taking the bus now." Mr. Bean nodded knowingly, as if Ward had just given him a subtle code. "Ah."

June glanced out of the window. "Speaking of the bus…" Beaver followed her gaze. "Whoop! There it is! Bye Mom, Dad, Wally!" Beaver pecked his mother in the cheek and ran out the door. Mr. Bean dutifully followed, still carrying his lunch. In the doorway, he turned around and gave a small wave to the remaining Cleavers. "Cheerio."

The Cleavers automatically waved back. Mr. Bean smiled and hurried out the door. Ward grinned at their eccentric guest, then his smiled faded. He looked at June.

"'Cheerio'?"

Eustace Cloudboyd wasn't exactly the very definition well-raised person. He'd always been his parents' third favorite, and he was an only child.

Despite his rocky early days, however, he was rather well-mannered and polite. Throughout his unexceptional high school life and ups-and-downs college years, he rarely talked back or acted rude. Not even when he was fired from his office job- with severance, fortunately.

It might have been his patient demeanor that had convinced the school to hire him as a bus driver for the elementary school children. Certainly it was a positive quality. Not even when the little brats stood up in their seats or flung spitballs at him did he raise his voice.

There were times, however, when he got fed up. There were occasions when he felt like all his pent-up frustration and anger from over the years would explode out of him. Such as, for example, when odd grown men insisted on taking up seat space to accompany little boys who didn't even look like he wanted to be accompanied.

"I said NO! Get off my BUS!"

Mr. Bean huffed indignantly and backed off the bus onto the ground. He glanced at the Beaver and mouthed _Meet you there then._ The driver glared at him one more time. Then the doors closed with a hiss and the bus lurched forward to drive away. Mr. Bean tightened his grip on Beaver's lunchbag and took a deep breath. He would have to run fast.

After Mr. Bean was thrown off of the bus, Beaver sighed and sat down next to his best friend, Larry Mondello. Larry's eyes were as wide as his torso as he glanced back Mr. Bean's shrinking figure in the distance. "Gee, Beav, who was _that_?"

And so the Beaver summarized to Larry how they had met Mr. Bean and how he was Beaver's self-proclaimed servant. When he finished, Larry stared at him with his mouth open. Then he started laughing. "BOY, Beav! I never seen anything like this, not even in a picture!"

Then he turned serious. "You're not pulling my leg, are you? You wouldn't lie to your best friend about something like that, would you?"

"'Course not, Larry!" Beaver looked down to his side. "See, he still has my lunch. He'll probably bring it to school for me today!" Larry sighed. "Gee, Beav. I wish _I_ had a servant like that."

Beaver reflected that it wasn't as great as you would think, but knew it was pointless to tell this to Larry. Once Larry had an idea in his head, it was almost impossible to get it out. The only way to persuade him that an idea was bad was to do it and get in trouble, as Beaver could attest to countless times.

The bus had pulled up in front of the school, and the students had gotten off. Eustace Cloudboyd had gone home to take some pills for various ailments, headaches not the least of them. As the other children milled about before the bell rang, Larry and the Beaver stood on the sidewalk looking out in the direction of Beaver's house.

Larry was eating the apple he was supposed to give to his teacher. "I thought he was gonna bring you your lunch, Beaver." Beaver frowned. "I thought he was too. I figured he would drive up with my dad's car, or somethin'."

Larry scornfully took a bite of the apple. "I'll bet he isn't, Beaver. I'll bet you just made up the whole thing about him being your servant." Beaver whirled around and glared at Larry. "I did NOT! He'll come!"

Larry was about to say "Yeah, sure," but then he saw something over Beaver's shoulder. Beaver turned around and saw it too. It was a distant figure running towards the school. Beaver grinned. "See, I told ya!"

It was, indeed, Mr. Bean, huffing and puffing as he sprinted up with Beaver's lunchbag. He had a hard time stopping, however, and ended up ramming into Larry, sending him tumbling into several other students and toppling them like dominoes.

Mr. Bean, panting but smiling, handed the Beaver his lunch, oblivious to the chaos he was causing. Beaver took it appreciatively. "Thanks, Mr. Bean!"

Mr. Bean glanced down at the ground, and picked up a half-eaten apple. He held it out to the Beaver. "Dropped this." Beaver shook his head. "Uh-uh. It's not mine."

Larry had untangled himself from the other kids, and ran over to Mr. Bean… a few seconds too late. When Mr. Bean learned that the apple wasn't Beaver's, he carelessly tossed the apple over his shoulder and into a nearby garbage dumpster. Larry ran over to the dumpster and looked inside. Then he peered up to the heavens and yelled "WHYYYYYYY?"

* * *

-Chapter Five-

The other kids had started to gather in an awed crowd around the Beaver and his servant. This was something entirely new to the schoolyard denizens, who were shocked by the alien concept of an _adult_ at the beck and call of a _child_. Even haughty Judy Hensler was having a hard time thinking of a snobbish retort.

Beaver was beginning to see Mr. Bean's devotion in a better light, and was having a good time introducing Mr. Bean to all the other kids. Mr. Bean, for his part, kept half-smiling, muttering "Hello," to each child, and patting them on the head.

The teacher for Beaver's grade was Miss Landers. As she moved some papers off of her desk before the bell, she glanced out the window. It looked as though the children were gathering around something, but her angle obscured the view. One of them probably had a new baseball glove, she guessed, or an old license plate.

By the time most of the kids had met Mr. Bean, the school bell rang. One by one, they all reluctantly peeled away from the cluster and went into school. Larry finally managed to stop lamenting by the dumpster and stagger into the building. Beaver glanced at Mr. Bean. Mr. Bean gave no indication of leaving. Beaver experimentally took a few steps toward the building. Mr. Bean dutifully followed him.

The Beaver may have been naïve at times, but he was not stupid. He had realized full well that Mr. Bean was probably going to try and accompany him during class. He could have tried to dissuade him. He could have told Mr. Bean to go home. But… he didn't. This time, Beaver decided, he would just sit back be a bystander, quietly watching events unfold. Besides, he could use a break.

The children gradually filed into Ms. Landers's classroom. They sat down, some chatting amongst themselves. Ms. Landers thought she caught the words _neat_ and _bean_. Neat beans?, she wondered with a smile.

A few minutes later, Ms. Landers got the first real shock of the day. Mentally, she checked off each student as he or she came in, before she took attendance. If you could read her mind, it would be something like this:

Joseph Shinks: X

Larry Mondello (looking rather upset): X

Margaret Underhill: X

Theodore "Beaver" Cleaver: X

Strange, Odd-looking Man: X

Wait.

Ms. Landers stared at the atypical man who had just followed Theodore into the classroom. He had wide, peering eyes, as if taking in the whole world around him with a mix of wonder and fear. Ms. Landers found something disarming about those eyes.

Trying to get a handle on the situation, Ms. Landers tentatively cleared her throat. "Ha ha hem. Pardon me?"

The man looked at Ms. Landers, then made a peculiar sound in his throat, as if wanting to say something but not having anything to say. Without taking his eyes off of Ms. Landers, he reached up to his head to remove his cap, only he wasn't wearing one.

It took him a moment to figure this out, and when he did he turned red and hurried away towards Theodore. Even more confused, Ms. Landers asked "Theodore, do you know this man?" Beaver, with the same gusto that he'd used when telling the other kids, related to Ms. Landers how Mr. Bean had crashed into the Cleavers' lives.

If the proof for the story was not standing right in Ms. Landers's classroom, she would have never believed it. As it was, she wasn't sure what to say. Beaver, for his part, was suitably proud at having flabbergasted his teacher. How many other kids could boast of _that_?

While Beaver had been explaining Mr. Bean, Mr. Bean himself had taken advantage of an absent student to sit down in a desk. Getting himself situated, he scooted his chair backward (knocking down Whitey and his desk) and his desk forward (knocking the wind out of Richie by slamming him up against _his_ desk). Mr. Bean smiled to himself. Students and desks having various painful collisions- it brought back memories of his old school days.

Beaver, meanwhile, had managed to convince Ms. Landers of the futility of trying to get Mr. Bean from leaving the class. He told her that Mr. Bean would be quiet and probably wouldn't cause any trouble. Admittedly, he was stretching the truth somewhat, but he was trying to save Ms. Landers a lot of unnecessary hassle. So, against her better judgement, Ms. Landers agreed to let Mr. Bean stay for the lesson, much to the delight of the other children.

At the end of the day, Beaver and his servant went home, the latter shyly waving goodbye to Ms. Landers. Once everyone was gone, she sat down at her desk, rubbed her head, and sighed. As much as she hated to admit it, Mr. Bean had been worse than some of the boys.

It was plain to see that he wasn't _trying_ to make trouble. It hadn't been until the sixth pencil-dropping that things had started to get a bit grating. And then, of course, there had been the time when, eager to solve an arithmetic problem, he'd bumped his head on the desk and had to go to the nurse. Guiltily, she hoped that Mr. Bean would not come back again, and deep down inside she actually felt sorry for the Cleavers. Even if Mr. Bean was rather handsome.


	2. Part 2

-Chapter Six-

June was sewing a torn dress when Ward got back from work that afternoon. As he walked in and kissed her on the cheek, he inquired "What got a hold of that thing, a Doberman?" June shot him a mock disapproving look, barely concealing her smile. "No, that broken handle you fixed the other day."

"Oh," said Ward, "I see. By the way, where's Mr. Bean?" June stopped sewing and turned around. "He never came back in after he went outside with the Beaver. I thought you'd given him a ride somewhere to look for his luggage." Ward shook his head. "No, no, not me." June looked worried. "What do you suppose happened to him? He can't have spent the day at the Beaver's school."

Ward was about to offer a suggestion when he heard the front door slam. Judging by the slam, it couldn't have been Wally or the Beaver. When they slammed the door, it sounded loud but accidental, and there was almost an apologetic honesty to the sound. This slam was quieter, like the person was trying to be sneaky about it, yet there was a certain deliberateness about it that suggested a sadistic desire to slam underneath the cunning. The distinction was obvious.

A moment later, the soul of darkness, the heart of heartlessness, the very core of all that is evil, twisted and unclean strutted into the Cleaver living room.

Though to the residents of Mayfield he was known as Eddie Haskell.

Seeing Ward and June, Eddie stopped and put on a nauseating and unconvincing act of politeness. "Oh, there you are, Mr. and Mrs. Cleaver. Apologies about the door slamming, the wind blew it out of my hand. Is Wallace home yet?"

Ward, forever bemused by Eddie's faux-courtesy, answered "No, not yet. June and I are the only ones here." It was then that they all heard the distinctive screech of the bus's brakes outside. "Well, I stand corrected," Ward chuckled.

June reasoned "Wally doesn't take the bus, it must be the Beaver." Eddie nodded. "Oh. Alright, I'll come back and see Wallace later." He turned to exit out the front door. Before leaving, he looked back and said "By the way, Mrs. Cleaver, that's a very nice dress you're sewing. Very –ah– agape."

He left. June looked at Ward, incredulous. "Agape?"

Eddie walked out the front door just in time to meet the Beaver and Mr. Bean. With the Cleaver parents not around, he dropped his fake politeness. He smirked unpleasantly down at the Beaver. "Heya, squirt. That your nose or are you growing broccoli out of your face?" He'd been up half the night thinking of that one.

"Hi, Eddie," Beaver replied morosely. Eddie often teased him like that. Eddie shot a curious look at Mr. Bean behind the Beaver.

On the way back, Mr. Bean (who had managed to sneak onto the bus with Beaver this time) had made himself useful by meticulously cleaning out the insides of the Beaver's lunch bag with a spoon. He was at this moment attempting to scrape out a particularly stubborn glob of peanut butter.

Eddie gestured to Mr. Bean in amusement. "What's with _this_ square?" Beaver straightened himself up. "He is _not_ a square, Eddie! He's my servant."

Eddie laughed. " _Servant?_ Ha! Is he for real, Mister?" Mr. Bean wasn't listening. He was muttering under his breath "'Most- got- _it_ -"

With a slight squelch, the glob of peanut butter came off. The sudden release sent Mr. Bean's hand whipping backward, the spoon he was holding painfully colliding with Eddie's nose.

"Ow!" Eddie clutched his nose as if it were about to fall off. "Geez, Mister, what gives!?" Mr. Bean, not paying attention, was triumphant after vanquishing the peanut butter. He laughed his signature cackle that sounded like a garbage disposal.

Eddie was still massaging his snout when Wally strolled up the sidewalk, home from school. He stopped when he saw the odd-looking trio standing on his front lawn. "Hi Mr. Bean, Eddie, Beav. Uh- what's going on?"

Eddie took one hand off of his nose to point at Mr. Bean. "The nut job here just about knocked my block off!" Mr. Bean noticed Eddie for the first time, and looked at him rubbing his nose as if he were some kind of weirdo.

Wally cleared his throat. "Well, um, why don't we all go inside and get something to eat?" The others thought this was a good idea. Mr. Bean ran ahead to open the door for the Beaver. Eddie hung back until the others were inside, feeling it wise to keep his distance from Mr. Bean.

When the others were inside, Eddie walked up to the door and tenderly let go of his nose to grab the door handle. Just as he was doing so, he heard the Beaver from inside, "Oh! Mr. Bean, we forgot my lunchbag outside. Could you get it for me, please?"

Eddie had just enough time to moan before Mr. Bean came crashing out the door, smashing it and Eddie into the wall. As Mr. Bean hurriedly grabbed the bag and ran back inside, Eddie slumped to the ground. There seemed to be an inordinate number of stars in the Cleavers' front yard today…

Later, everyone was finishing up the chocolate-chip cookies June had been saving in the fridge. Mr. Bean didn't even offer to feed the Beaver his. He was learning. Eddie had declined and gone home to get some ice.

Ward slipped into the kitchen and grabbed a cookie. Between bites, he said "Oh, Mr. Bean, I called the train and bus stations. There's been no sign of your luggage." Mr. Bean's shoulders slumped. He mournfully crunched his cookie.

Ward put his hand on Mr. Bean's shoulder. "Come on, old boy, _think_. Is there anywhere else that you could have left them at?" Mr. Bean scrunched up his face in concentration. Then his eyes brightened and he excitedly opened his mouth.

"AH- no."

Everyone tried to hide their disappointment. Ward said "Think, man, think. Where did you go after your train stopped in Mayfield?" Mr. Bean thought. He started mumbling something under his breath. He muttered louder. Soon he was rambling on complete gibberish, making incomprehensible hand gestures as he did so. "I'll make some more calls," Ward decided.

Beaver and Wally went up to do their homework, Beaver followed by Mr. Bean. Mr. Bean sat beside the Beaver as Beaver tackled some math problems. Beaver sat for a moment, chewing his pencil, then said "Mr. Bean, could ya' help me with this arithmetic?" Mr. Bean looked up eagerly.

Beaver showed him the workbook:

Problem One:

14678.1999

X 555

Mr. Bean scratched his head. He took Beaver's lined paper and pencil. He wrote something down. He looked at the workbook. He wrote some more. He glanced at the book. He began writing faster. Soon he was writing feverishly fast and muttering under his breath. Finally, he stopped writing, threw the pencil away, and let out a huge gasp like someone who'd just come up from underwater.

Beaver took the paper and looked at it. _This_ is what it looked like:

94#*40300(0940550050-0)-8999 ×849342021π

080% 289839x8778 99933t774737774^393094949904

8494905÷0390302-3992345$ ? 36x(5+5-5)

=878373888.π÷10% 8+5=24

=7

Beaver looked at it for a long time. Finally, he said "Gee, thanks, Mr. Bean, but I think I'll go ask Dad –just in case." And with that, he walked out of the room. Mr. Bean lounged back in the chair with a satisfied look on his face.

* * *

-Chapter Seven-

Afterwards, things started to settle into a strange sort of routine. During the day, Mr. Bean would accompany the Beaver to school, although Beaver was able to persuade him to stay outside and damage the playground equipment. Afterwards, they would come home to June's dinners. Ward put forth his best effort to help Mr. Bean find his luggage, but was not having much luck. He was beginning to fear that the luggage had somehow left town with the British tour bus.

It was on Mr. Bean's fourth day at the Cleavers' that Ward played his wild-card: Fred Rutherford. As Fred would often brag, he had connections with important city officials _and_ important transportation people. He liked his connections, old Fred did.

The plan was simple: invite Fred over for dinner, get him in a good mood, and ask him to pull some strings to help find Mr. Bean's luggage. It was simple. If Mr. Bean could be kept from botching something up, that is.

June was busy preparing a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. Wally was doing his homework. June wanted to bake a cake for dessert, so Ward had gone to get some eggs, with Beaver and Mr. Bean tagging along. This was a good excuse to get the latter two out of June's way for a while.

She was mixing the tomato sauce when there was a knock at the back door. Curious, she went to see what it was.

"Why, hello, Eddie. Are you alright? You look rather nervous."

Eddie cleared his throat. "Oh, uh, it's nothing, Mrs. Cleaver. Is Wallace home?"

"Yes, he's up doing his homework. I'm sure he'll be done in a little while," June replied, expecting Eddie to step into the house. But instead, Eddie stayed outside and peered in, still looking nervous. He licked his lips and asked "Er… Beaver's friend isn't here, is he?"

June shook her head. "No, he went with the Beaver and Ward to go get something I need to make dinner."

Eddie was visibly relieved as he stepped inside and wiped his brow. "Phew! Who is that guy, anyway?" He followed June into the kitchen as she summarized why Mr. Bean was there and their plan to enlist Fred's help. When she finished the story, Wally asked "So, if this dinner goes well, Mr. Bean goes back to wherever he came from?"

June finished stirring up the sauce. "Well, that's the hope." Eddie put his hands up and backed away. "Well, if that's the case, I'll stay out of your way. Wouldn't want to mess up this dinner!"

Just then, they heard the front door open. The Beaver hollered "Hey, Mom, we're back!" as he, Mr. Bean, and Ward entered the kitchen. June smiled. "I could tell, Beaver." Ward noticed Eddie. "Well, hello there, Eddie." Eddie smiled tensely. "Hello, Mr. Cleaver." He tried to back as far away from Mr. Bean as possible, which ended up looking rather silly as he backed up against the wall.

Ward chuckled. "Calm down, Eddie, Mr. Bean won't bite." Eddie wasn't one hundred percent sure this was true. But he stepped away from the wall and gave Mr. Bean a phony smile.

Mr. Bean grinned back and held out his hand. Eddie took it and shook… and then yelped in pain and jumped away. There was a red spot of blood on his hand. "What happened?" asked the Beaver. Mr. Bean looked in his hand and smacked his forehead in annoyance. "Hey, the pocketknife!" exclaimed the Beaver. "Pocketknife?" panted Eddie. "Pocketknife?" asked Ward.

"I asked Mr. Bean if he'd ever had a pocketknife, and he said no, so I bought him one while Dad was in line buying the eggs, 'cause he's such a good servant."

"Well, that was nice of you, Beaver," said Ward. He looked at the knife in Mr. Bean's hand. "You know, Mr. Bean, it's not very safe to carry it with the blade open like that."

Mr. Bean smiled sheepishly. June said "Come over to the sink and wash that out, Eddie." Mr. Bean turned on the faucet.

"NO!" shouted Eddie. Then he cleared his throat, "Ah, I-I think I'll just go home and do it." He dashed out the door.

June sighed and said "Now, Mr. Bean, I'm sorry but you really have to be more sensible. I mean, just like Ward said, it's quite unsafe to carry a pocketknife with the blade extended." The Beaver chimed in "Yeah, it strains a guy's suspension of disbelief, even for you, Mr. Bean."

Everyone stared at the Beaver. Wally, who had come down just in time to see Eddie make a break for it, asked "Boy, Beaver, where the heck did _that_ come from?" Beaver shrugged. "I dunno. Guess I just heard it somewhere."

Preparations for dinner with Fred continued, mostly without hitches. Other than Mr. Bean accidentally nearly strangling himself with some noodles, things went unusually well. Unusually well for _this_ crowd, that is. Soon, the pasta was cooked, the sauce was stirred and filled with pleasantly round meatballs, and the side of garlic bread and the cake were baked.

It was just around five o'clock when the doorbell rang. Ward got up, but it was too late: Mr. Bean, wearing his original suit washed by June, had already answered the door.

Fred Rutherford liked to consider himself a man who was prepared for the unexpected, whatever form it might take. And whether he usually was or not, he certainly wasn't prepared for an odd-looking stranger to answer the door of the Cleavers' home.

Fred sized up the stranger: brown suit, black tie and a rather unsettling smile. It didn't look like an especially productive face, not one Fred would put in charge of quality control or any finances. This was how Fred often judged people. He had a personal, private rule: a person's merit largely depended upon how well you could picture them using a line chart in front of a board.

Fred looked around and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ahem. Ahem. Excuse me, Mister…?" At this point, Ward appeared at the stranger's side. "Ah! Hello, Fred. I see you've met Mr. Bean." Fred gave a polite smile. "Hello, Ward. Mr. Bean?"

"Yes, it's rather a long story. You come on in and we'll tell you about it."

Fred nodded appreciatively and stepped inside. Mr. Bean, aware that this was potentially his ticket back home, tried to get on Fred's good side and take his coat. However, this resulted only in both of them getting tangled up due to Mr. Bean's coat-removal ineptitude.

When Mr. Bean finally wrangled off Fred's coat, and had gotten a _very_ judgmental look for his troubles, the two joined the Cleaver family in the sitting-room.

"Hello June, boys. Fantastic to see you again. You know, my son Clarence mentions you boys a lot." "Really, Mr. Rutherford?" asked the Beaver. "What does he say?" Fred gave a somewhat forced smile and quickly changed the subject.

The conversation soon got on to Mr. Bean. The Cleavers took turns telling Fred how Mr. Bean arrived at the house and his ensuing antics. When they'd finished, Fred wasn't sure _what_ to make of it. He bemusedly stated, "If it weren't for Mr. Bean being right here, I'd think you were all pulling my leg. It's like a story somebody's writing!" Ward chuckled. "Well, the truth is stranger than fiction, I suppose."

Fred turned to Mr. Bean. "Well? What do you say, old man?" Mr. Bean opened his mouth and said "Scones."

Fred was puzzled. "Scones?"

Mr. Bean nodded. "Scones." And that was when things took a turn for the worse.

A horrified look came onto Mr. Bean's face. He jumped up, exclaimed "Scones!" and rushed out of the sitting-room.

Fred was more baffled by Mr. Bean than ever. "What was all _that_ about?" he asked. Ward sniffed the air. "Dear, do you smell something?" June turned pale. "Earlier, h-he said something about helping with dessert… but I told him not too!"

Ward sniffed again. "Well, it smells like he did anyway. And its smells like whatever he did is burning."

"Oh, dear," said June. "I suppose he got the ingredients out of the pantry, and started baking it when the cake was done." At this moment, Fred cut in. "What _is_ a scone? It's a British food, isn't it? Yes, that's right, I remember trying some on that trip I went on when-"

Mr. Bean burst into the sitting-room, holding a smoking pan. He smiled in relief at the Cleavers and Fred. "Got 'em, then."

Then he looked confused as to why everyone was looking at him in shock. He looked down at his burned scones… and _that_ was when he realized that he'd neglected to wear oven mitts while rescuing them.

With a yelp, he tossed them into the air and started rapidly blowing on his hands. The Cleavers watched in horror as the pan came crashing down right on top of Fred's bald head.

Fred yelled and leaped up. He clutched his scalp as the pan and blackened scones tumbled to the floor. Mr. Bean immediately stopped blowing on his hands and plunged to the floor, desperately trying to see if anything was still salvageable. He picked up one scone at a time, saw that it was scorched and dirty, and tossed it away before picking up the next one. This resulted in Fred being pelted with ruined scones as Mr. Bean threw them away.

"STOP IT!" bellowed Fred as soon as he saw what Mr. Bean was doing. Mr. Bean stood up, still holding one scone, and meekly backed away. Fred sputtered with indignation. "In all my life, I have _never_ had such a… a TRAVESTY of hospitality inflicted on me!" He pointed an accusing finger at Mr. Bean.

"You! You incompetent oaf, you idiotic klutz! What do you have to say for yourself? WELL!?"

Mr. Bean sheepishly held out the blackened pastry in his hand. "Scone?"

Fred roared with fury. Ward laid a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down, Fred. Mr. Bean didn't mean any harm." Fred jerked away and scowled at Ward. "In case you haven't noticed, _Mr. Bean_ just burned my head, bombarded me with singed pastries, and overall offended my personal dignity! I have no idea how you all have survived with him in your house! GOODBYE!" He stormed out of the room and toward the door.

Ward and June ran after him. June anxiously called "But don't you want to stay for spaghetti, Fred? It's your favorite!"

Fred gave them a look that would stop a charging buffalo. "And get STRANGLED by that maniac? No, thank you!" and with that, he marched out the door, and took with him any hopes of his help to get Mr. Bean back home.

* * *

-Chapter Eight-

Mr. Bean and the Cleavers all watched out the window as Fred's car disappear down the street. None of them spoke. After a moment, Wally spoke. "Nice going, Mr. Bean." "Wallace!" scolded June. Wally looked regretful. "Sorry, Mr. Bean. I didn't mean it."

Mr. Bean sighed. He turned from the window and walked away despondently. The Cleavers watched him with sympathy. They followed him into the sitting-room, where they watched him flop down on the sofa in despair. Then they watched as he missed the sofa completely and collapsed out on the floor. Then they watched as he didn't seem to even care, and just lay spread out on the floor like a dead man.

The Beaver kneeled down and put his hand on Mr. Bean's shoulder. "It's okay, Mr. Bean. You were just trying to help." Mr. Bean opened his eyes and gave Beaver a thankful pat of his own.

After a moment, June put a brave face on it. "Well, that spaghetti dinner still needs eaten. No sense letting it go to waste." Ward nodded and put on a false smile. "Absolutely, June. Chin up, Mr. Bean. We've just… had an off day, that's all. Things will be brighter tomorrow."

Mr. Bean sighed and sluggishly rose to his feet. "There's a good man," Ward said, patting Mr. Bean on the back.

Dinner was a solemn affair. The spaghetti was delicious, of course, but nobody was in an incredibly upbeat mood, especially not Mr. Bean. He sat there, twirling the pasta on his fork, until the fork disappeared altogether and he seemed to be twirling a little cyclone of spaghetti. Then he would shove it all in his mouth and somehow gulp it down before twirling more spaghetti and starting all over again, all with the same blank look on his face.

The Cleavers all munched in silence. They were able to eat more than usual, but this only reminded them that Fred wasn't there to have his helpings.

Dessert was more of the same, only without the pasta tornados.

When Mr. Bean was finished, he wandered around the downstairs until he found a piano. He sat down on the bench and despondently tinkled out a few sour notes on the keys.

The Cleavers found him in there. They watched him for a moment, unsure of what to say. Finally, June said softly, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bean. It wasn't your fault, you know. You were doing your best to help. These things happen, that's all. Sometimes we can prevent them, and sometimes we can't. And when we can't, we-we just have to get up and push on. And if anyone is good at that, it's you, Mr. Bean."

Mr. Bean looked up and smiled halfheartedly at June. Then they heard the front door slam.

Eddie Haskell appeared, looking eager. "Well? Did the dinner go well? Is that dangerous nut-case gone?" Then he saw Mr. Bean sitting at the piano, turned white, and hurriedly exited the way he came.

The Cleavers stared after him, stunned. Then they turned around to see that Mr. Bean was gone.

A little while after Eddie's ill-timed intrusion, Ward came down from upstairs. "He's up in the guestroom," he told June and the others. "Just lying there, staring at the ceiling. He was so quiet, and not in his usual 'Mr. Bean' quiet, a discouraged quiet. I don't think Eddie helped with his dangerous nut-case comment, either."

June twisted her dress in her hands anxiously. "Oh, this is just horrible. I can't bear seeing him like this. What can we do?"

Ward scratched the back of his head, as if hoping he could rub loose an idea. "I really don't know, June. You offer to help an anxious Mr. Bean. You caution a careless Mr. Bean. But how do you help a depressed Mr. Bean?"

No one seemed to have an answer.

Mr. Bean didn't come down for the rest of the evening. The Cleavers carried on as they would have normally done before Mr. Bean crashed into their lives, but with decidedly heavier hearts.

Bedtime came, and the Cleavers all went upstairs. After brushing his teeth, Ward peeked in on Mr. Bean. Mr. Bean was lying in the exact same positon, and Ward would have thought he'd hadn't moved an inch if he weren't wearing pajamas.

Shaking his head, Ward went and got in bed with June. They both lay there, staring at the ceiling, not saying anything. Finally, June said "You know, if you had described someone like Mr. Bean to me, I'm not sure I would've believed you."

Ward chuckled mildly. "I probably wouldn't have either, dear. That's Mr. Bean for you, I suppose."

After a few more minutes of silence, June said "I'd give anything to hear a crash from down the hall right now." Ward sighed. "Me too, dear. Me too."

The next morning, the sun rose. The spirits of those in the Cleaver house didn't.

When the Beaver and Wally came downstairs, June was making their breakfasts and Ward was eating his. Beaver asked "Mr. Bean isn't down yet?"

"No," Ward said, slowly eating his toast. "Maybe if you went up and told him his breakfast is almost ready." Beaver nodded and ran back to the stairs.

After he left, Wally said "The Beav sure is worried about him." "We all are," June answered.

Ward tapped his finger on the table impatiently. He did not often do this, but he did not feel helpless often, either. He had no idea how to help Mr. Bean cheer up _or_ get back home, and he didn't like it. Ward Cleaver was always in control. That was who he was. Anything less disturbed him.

Ward's silent brooding was interrupted when the Beaver came back into the kitchen, followed by an undead corpse.

Actually, it was Mr. Bean, although today he wouldn't have looked out of place at a zombie convention. His mangled hair, dark-ringed eyes and shuffling, trance-like gait suggested a poor night's sleep.

June asked "How are you feeling, Mr. Bean?" Mr. Bean gave a noncommittal shrug. He mumbled "e?"

"What was that?" asked June, leaning closer to him.

"Tea?" Mr. Bean muttered again, just barely audible. "Oh!" said June. "Yes, I think I have some up here." She reached up onto a shelf and took down a teabag.

Mr. Bean picked up a mug, put the teabag inside, and took a long sip. He then looked down into the cup and hazily realized that he hadn't put any water in it. Lacking energy and the ability to care, he simply kept drinking the tea that wasn't there. It would have been funny if it hadn't been so pitiful.

Trying to get some sign of sentience out of Mr. Bean, June asked "Ah… what were you planning on doing today, Mr. Bean?" Mr. Bean shrugged. "Do you feel like staying around here today?" asked Ward. Mr. Bean shrugged again, and slurped his nonexistent tea.

The awkward silence was almost a material presence in the room. You could have cut it with a butter knife, and you might have stirred Mr. Bean's tea while you were at it. No one was quite sure what to say, and the only sound was Mr. Bean's slurping and the sizzling of June's frying eggs.

After what felt like hours of muteness, there was the sound of the school bus pulling up outside. The Beaver looked at Mr. Bean, who didn't seem to register the sound and kept on sipping. An apparent upside to nonexistent coffee was that it never ran out.

Beaver tentatively picked up his lunch bag and books, very slowly, giving Mr. Bean all the chances in the world to get ready to join him like he had all the days before. Mr. Bean didn't seem to even be aware of anything. The Beaver went to the door, looked back at Mr. Bean, sighed, and left. Wally, seeking to escape the awkward silence, left as well a few minutes early, leaving just Ward, June and Mr. Bean. Two people and a near-vegetable.

The Beaver dolefully sat down next to Larry, who was (surprise, surprise) eating an apple. "What'cha so down about, Beav?" he asked. Then he looked around. "Hey, your servant's gone! What happened, did he go back to England or somethin'?"

Beaver shook his head. "Naw, he's just… down in the dumps."

"That's too bad, Beav, but I'm holding tight to my apple, just in case."

As if the Beaver didn't feel low enough, Judy Hensler's snooty head poked around from the seat behind them. "Suitcase? What do you know about the suitcase? It isn't _yours_ , is it?"

"He said _just in_ case, not _suit_ case!" The Beaver snapped. He was in no mood for Judy's know-it-all attitude. Then, something clicked in his mind. He turned around and looked back at Judy. "…what suitcase, Judy?"

Judy sniffed. "Not that it's any of _your_ business, Beaver, but my father who works at the train station, found a suitcase full of luggage. At first he thought that it must have belonged to one of the British tourists, but there were no children on the tour, so he doesn't know whose it is."

"It was a kid's suitcase?"

"It had a teddy bear in it."

The Beaver jumped. "Thanks, Judy!" he shouted. Judy had no idea how to respond to this, as nobody said it to her very often, but it didn't matter, because Beaver torn up to the front of the bus. "You have turn around! Go back!" he yelled at the driver.

The bus driver -our poor ol' friend, Eustace Cloudboyd- couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Go back?!" he shouted, "Are you off your noodle, kid? This bus is goin' to school, and so are you. Now SIDDOWN!"

Beaver, seeing that it was useless, went and sat back down. He had to get home and tell Mr. Bean about the suitcase. He hoped the school day went by fast.

And, actually, it… didn't. On the contrary, the day oozed along like molasses. Molasses also seemed to have gotten in the clocks and gummed up the works, because Beaver was sure that they were going slower than usual. All he heard the whole day was a constant drone of "…and in 1884, the President blah blah blah blah mixing these two elements together causes a blah blah blah blah blah blah before E except after C blah blah blah blah…"

Near the end of the school day, the bell was just about to ring… any second now… was that it? No, it was just a bird chirping outside… any second… annnnnnnnyyyyy secoooooonnnnddd…

RIIINNNNG! There! There it was! Beaver was out of his chair like a rocket. Not even stopping to say goodbye to Ms. Landers, he bolted out of the building and onto the bus. "C'mon! C'mon! Let's go! Let's go! Get a move on!" he hollered at the driver. Eustace groaned.

Finally, the bus _screeeeched_ to a halt in front of the Cleaver house. It was as if someone had sling-shotted the Beaver off of the bus and into the house. "MOMOMOMOMOMOMOMMISTERBEANMISTERBEANMISTERBEANMISTERBEANMISTERBEAN!" he hollered.

June came dashing to meet him in the foyer. "What is it, Beaver? What's wrong?" she asked worriedly. The Beaver breathlessly panted "Bean's… suitcase… Judy… bus… molasses…"

June replied "Now, you come in here and have a glass of water, then tell me what this is all about." Beaver rushed into the kitchen ahead of her and, not bothering about a glass, put his mouth to the faucet and gulped down probably several gallons of water. "Beaver, what on earth's the matter with you?" asked June.

Beaver inhaled several mixes of air and water, then said "Judy Hensler knows who has Mr. Bean's suitcase!" "What?" gasped June.

Beaver related how Judy's father had found a suitcase, and how it had to be Mr. Bean's. "We have to tell him!" Beaver shouted "Where's he?!"

"I-I think he's up in the guest room. But are you sure-"

The Beaver didn't stick around to hear June's worries. He bolted up the stairs and started pounding on the guest room's closed door. "MR. BEAN? MR. BEAN? COME OUT HERE! WE FOUND YOUR SUITCASE, YOU CAN GO HOME! MR. BEAN?"

No answer. Beaver was suddenly struck with an irrational feeling of dread. "Mr. Bean?" he asked again, not really expecting an answer. Which was just as well, because he didn't get one. Slowly, apprehensively, the Beaver eased open the door.

The bed had been stripped of its sheets. The sheets had been tied rather sloppily together to form a makeshift rope-ladder. This rope-ladder was draped out the open window. But Beaver wasn't concerned about what all he saw but rather what he didn't see. He didn't see anyone in the room.

Mr. Bean was gone.

* * *

-Chapter Nine-

"All right," said Ward. He looked around the dining table. The whole Cleaver family worriedly sat around it. Ward pointed at a map of the city he'd acquired.

"Now, we're going to split up. Me and the Beaver will head down Ecclestone Street and check the south part of town. June and Wally will start up Tennant way and start looking around the north part. Now, since time is of the essence, we're going to have some posters made." Ward was in the zone. In charge and in control of the situation, just where he preferred to be.

Wally raised his hand. "Dad, if we're all going to be out searching, who's going to have the posters made?"

Ward was about to answer when, serendipitously, there was the sound of the front door. A moment later, none other than Eddie Haskell dashed in. "I got your call, Mr. Cleaver!" he exclaimed. "Mr. Bean's gone?"

Ward nodded. "Yes, Eddie. And we need your help to find him and tell him we've found his luggage."

Eddie, for the first time in his life, sputtered. "Wh-WHAT!? You…you expect me to help you FIND that nut job just when I was celebrating he was gone!? Why-why… no way! Count me out!"

Ward had planned for this, and had prepared. This wasn't the kind of tactic he usually employed, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Well, Eddie," he said, "I would've thought you'd want to be the first one to want him found. After all, at least when he's with us you know where he is, and how to avoid him. Right now, who knows where he is? He could be anywhere… _anywhere_."

Eddie made a small _meep_ sound, then said "Okay, I'll do it, I'll do it!"

"Good man," Ward said, patting Eddie in the shoulder. Eddie, looking unhealthily pale, sat down with the Cleavers.

Ward continued "Now, while the rest of us are searching, I'm going to give Eddie some money and have him take this-" he held up a poster with a picture of Mr. Bean above the words "HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN?" It wasn't the ideal picture, as it had been taken when Mr. Bean had been fooling around with the camera and thus Mr. Bean was making a rather unsettling face in it, but it was all they had.

"-to the copiers and have a hundred copies made. Any questions?"

No one had any.

"Right. Now, let's get going."

The Cleavers got up and set about their Operation: Legume Location. They took to the streets, the Cleavers almost worried sick about what Mr. Bean might've gotten himself into and Eddie nervously looking over his shoulder all the way to the copiers.

At first, it had been rather embarrassing to actually call out for Mr. Bean, but the Cleavers reasoned that they couldn't be sure that Mr. Bean would see them if they walked right by him, being as… unaware, as he was. Their voices soon echoed around the city.

"Mr. Bean!" Along the streets.

"Mr. Bean!" In the subway.

"Mr. Bean!" In a smelly alley, vibrating off the trashcans and frightening the cats.

"M-Mr. Bea-Bean?" around every corner. (That one was Eddie.)

By around six-thirty, Ward and the Beaver were taking a rest down at Smith's Bridge. The sun was just starting to dip into the horizon, and the mosquitoes were proving quite the adversaries. As they sat on a bench, Beaver looked worriedly down into the dark waters below.

"Hey, Dad, you don't think Mr. Bean fell in here, do ya?"

Ward looked down with him. "I don't think so," he reassured. _I hope not_ , he thought.

Suddenly, there was the sound of running footsteps and panting behind them. They turned around to see Eddie hurrying up to them, out of breath. "Eddie," said Ward, "did you get the copies made?"

Eddie caught his breath. "Yeah… yeah, I did." Ward looked at the papers in his hand. "Well, let's see 'em."

Eddie looked a bit nervous. "Well… Mr. Cleaver… you see… there was… here." He held the posters out for Ward and Beaver to see.

Ward raised his eyebrows. Beaver gaped. He read aloud "Have you seen this DOG?"

"They said there was an unfortunate mistake, and they were very sorry. They gave me a discount," Eddie said, handing Ward some change.

Ward took the change and shook his head. "'This dog'… well, nothing we can do about it now. Beaver, you go with Eddie and hang these up. I'm going to go talk to some people to see if anyone's seen him."

Ward walked off as Eddie and Beaver handled the posters. Beaver tired to hang one up on a light pole, but Eddie waved him away. "You're doin' it all wrong, squirt. Do it like this." As Eddie taped it on, Beaver asked "Eddie, do you think we'll find him?"

"I dunno, kid. But I hope so. Better finding him instead of _him_ finding _me_." He shuddered.

Beaver looked at the gradually descending sun worriedly.

Elsewhere, Miss Landers was tired as she drove along a lonely road. Elsewhere, Miss Landers was tired as she drove along a lonely road. All in all, she enjoyed being a teacher, but sometimes it felt like children all conspired to make sure she had a headful of prematurely gray hair by age thirty.

She peered at the barren road ahead of her. The market _was_ this way, wasn't it? It would perfectly fit the day she was having to get lost on the way to the supermarket. But, she reminded herself, at least she had a job, and was able to support herself. The same could not be said for many women, single or not. Although, she'd heard that, over in England, there were many women who had more jobs than American women, and had more types of jobs-

What was that? She squinted at something off in the distance, on the side of the road. As she drove closer, she realized it was a person sitting on the ground. Who was it?

Further approach revealed that it was Mr. Bean! What was he doing there, sitting forlornly by the road? Miss Landers wondered this as, without even thinking about it, she smoothed a spare hand through her hair and checked her makeup in the mirror. She then wondered why she did that. It was only Mr. Bean, Theodore's strange English friend.

She pulled up alongside Mr. Bean and looked out at him. He sat beside the road, sitting cross-legged, face hanging glumly, and his arm held out sticking his thumb in the air.

Miss Landers looked out at him. "Mr. Bean? Is that you?"

Mr. Bean looked up and saw her, then seemed a bit surprised. "Landers?"

"Call me Alice." She stopped. Why had she said that? She shook her head and continued "Are you all right?" Mr. Bean sighed and rubbed his temple dejectedly. "'Itch'iking."

"Oh… where to?"

Mr. Bean wrinkled his brow and looked away. He didn't seem to have thought that far. He finally said "Spain."

Miss Landers blinked. "Spain? Er…"

Mr. Bean scratched his head. "Or Six Flags."

"Spain… or Six Flags?"

Mr. Bean nodded. Miss Landers cleared her throat. "Um… I don't want to be rude, Mr. Bean, but if I may ask… why aren't you staying with the Cleaver family anymore?"

Mr. Bean groaned and buried his head in his hands. _Oh, poor thing_ , Miss Landers thought, as Mr. Bean struck her as like a sad child. "Well… well, why don't you… er, if you'd like to… I know a nice café a little ways in town. Why don't you go there with me, and we can get something to drink, and you can tell me all about it."

Head tilted, Mr. Bean seemed to consider this. He finally nodded. "Right."

Miss Landers smiled at him. He gave a sort of half smile back. It was rather cute, in an odd way. They both got in Miss Landers's car, and drove off.

As they made their way back into town, Miss Landers awkwardly wondered what to say. Mr. Bean played with the glove compartment.

Suddenly, Miss Landers slammed on the breaks and Mr. Bean screamed. Miss Landers had slammed on the breaks because she had seen Mr. Bean's face on a poster on a telephone pole, and Mr. Bean had screamed because the car suddenly stopping had slammed his fingers in the glove compartment.

Miss Landers peered out at the poster. Mr. Bean, after blowing on his fingers, did too. "That's you, isn't it, Mr. Bean?" asked Miss Landers. Mr. Bean nodded.

They both got out to get a closer look. Walking up to the telephone pole, they observed the poster tacked to it, corners flapping in the breeze. Hardly believing it, they leaned in close to read it. They both frowned, and muttered in sync: "Dog?"

Miss Landers looked down at the bottom of the poster. "Why, it's the Cleavers! They're looking for you!" She read further. "It says that they've found your luggage, and they need to find you so you can get it and go back home!"

She looked up at Mr. Bean. His expression was one of perfect shock. Then, he jumped three feet in the air. He then tore back to the car, screaming "TEDDY! TEEEEEEDDY!"

Miss Landers rushed into the car with him, and they zoomed off. Mr. Bean kept pointing ahead as they drove, as if worried Miss Landers would forget where the road was.

It was seven twenty-eight. The sun sank ever lower, dimming the light on the street corner. The most prominent thing on the street was the large sign for Hartnell's Grill 'n Dills, which the Cleavers and Eddie were meeting up under.

"Any word?" asked Ward to Wally and June, be he needn't have bothered. Mr. Bean obviously wasn't with them, and he could tell by their faces that they hadn't heard anything about him. "Nothing," replied June, unnecessarily.

The sound of his jogging feet preceded Eddie as he ran up. "A-Alright," he panted, "I got all the posters hung up. Anybody know where he is?" The Cleavers all shook their heads. Eddie awkwardly fidgeted. "Well… I guess… he…" Eddie trailed off and shrugged weakly.

The Beaver had an idea. He bowed his head, just like he'd been taught in Sunday school, and whispered "Hey, uh… God? I, um, I was just hopin', if you weren't too busy, uh… if you could tell us where Mr. Bean was? Please?"

Beaver stared up at the ruby sky and waited expectantly. He somehow knew that he was going to hear the voice of God, telling him where Mr. Bean was, any minute. He held his breath.

HONK HOOOOONK!

Beaver was puzzled. That wasn't what he'd expected the voice of God to sound like. Then he heard June say "Look! It's Mr. Bean!"

Beaver whirled around just in time to see a shiny car quickly pull up beside them. He could hardly believe his eyes as Mr. Bean threw open the passenger's front door (whacking it into Eddie as he did so) and lunged out. "Cleavers!" he shouted. "Where's my trunk? Where's Teddy?" he looked frantic.

"Calm down, Mr. Bean, easy," said Ward, "Your trunk is back at our house, it's all right." Mr. Bean jumped up and let out an ecstatic cry of joy. A few passersby turned to look. An overjoyed Mr. Bean then grabbed Ward in a bear hug and kissed him on the cheek. Ward was stunned. Mr. Bean exuberantly ran over to the Beaver, picked him up, and whirled him around through the air, laughing giddily. More people turned to stare. Mr. Bean then turned to Eddie, who jumped away and hid behind June.

The Cleavers and Eddie drove back home, followed by Mr. Bean and Ms. Landers in her car.

Well, you can probably surmise what happened after that. They arrived at the Cleaver house, Mr. Bean got his luggage, and there was joy all around. Mr. Bean hugged his Teddy, he hugged Ms. Landers, he hugged all the Cleavers again, and he even would have hugged Eddie if Eddie hadn't suddenly remembered that he had to go home and organize his garbage.

Thinking that this called for a celebration, the family decided to go to the soda shop for floats. Everyone was in such a good mood, nobody minded when Mr. Bean accidentally tossed his float over his shoulder into the next booth. They just cheerfully ordered him another one with an "It happens to everyone, old boy," form Ward. They were all in such a good mood, the man the float landed on laughed along with them and didn't remember to be angry until later after he had left the soda shop.

On the way back, just to mix things up, June rode with Ms. Landers while Ward, Beaver, Wally and Mr. Bean rode in the Cleaver car. Siting between Beaver and Wally, Mr. Bean grinned to himself. The others couldn't help grinning too, especially Beaver. He was glad to finally see his friend happy again.

They all arrived at the Cleaver house, and after a good sit-down and talk about things they'd all already said, Ms. Landers had to go. As the others walked her to the door, she said "Well, seems like everything turned out all right. I'm glad I could help." The Cleavers all thanked her. Walking through the doorway, she turned back and said "Goodbye, everyone… goodbye, Mr. Bean."

Mr. Bean turned a little red and muttered "Goodbye, Alice." Ms. Landers asked "May I… come see you off tomorrow?" "Please," murmured Mr. Bean. They both gave each other a shy smile.

The Cleavers and Mr. Bean got up bright and early the next day. Ward had called the company that managed the tour Mr. Bean had been on, and had gotten it all straightened out. Mr. Bean, with his luggage, would be leaving by train today to the one of the company's ships, which would take him back to England.

As they drove to the train station, the Beaver wasn't sure what he was feeling. On the one hand, he was glad that Mr. Bean was able to go back to his home. On the other, he was sad that his friend was leaving. He had never met anyone like Mr. Bean before, and had a feeling that he never would again. But when he felt sad about it, he just glanced at Mr. Bean sitting next to him, and looked at Mr. Bean's happy grin as they approached the station.

After finding a parking space, the got out and entered the train station, bustling with people hurrying to something or other. Ward glanced up at a board that had all the train schedules on it. "Well, we got here just in time. The train will be here in a few minutes." Mr. Bean nodded.

The party stood and looked at each, unsure of what to say. Now that it was almost time for Mr. Bean to leave, what could they say? What could they possibly have to say that would possibly fit the extremely unusual circumstances that had brought them all together?

Thankfully, the awkward moment was broken by Ms. Landers approaching them. "Oh, there you all are! I saw the train will be here in the few minutes." They all greeted her, and things were back on track. They all said the things you'd expect, about how things had been crazy, but fun, and how they'd been delighted to meet Mr. Bean, and that they were sad it was all over. They hurried to catch the train, and said things that, really, didn't mean anything.

In fact, on this day, as Mr. Bean left the Cleaver household, only two really unexpected things happened. The first came about as the train doors stood open, inviting in all the boarding passengers. Everyone looked at Mr. Bean. Mr. Bean looked around at all of them. He looked down at Beaver beside him. The Beaver smiled up at him. Then, Mr. Bean awkwardly cleared his throat and said…

"Eh, heh hem. Cleavers… thank you so much for taking me in and treating me like one of your own. Beaver, I quite enjoyed being your servant and friend. I'm going back to England now, but rest assured that I will remember you all always. Beaver, Wally, June, Ward," he turned to Ms. Landers, "…and you, Alice." He turned a bit red and looked down shyly.

Everyone stared for a second. That was more than Mr. Bean had said collectively his entire stay. Then Ward coughed. "Er… we feel the same about you, Mr. Bean. We'll miss you." "Yeah, have a good life in England," Wally put in. June smiled. "You really brought some excitement to our lives, Mr. Bean. Thank you."

Mr. Bean looked over to Ms. Landers. He seemed to have run out of words. She seemed to understand him, anyhow. They hugged each other tightly. June wiped her eyes.

They were interrupted when Eddie ran up. "Well? Is this it? Is Mr. Bean leaving?" Mr. Bean let go of Ms. Landers and nodded at Eddie. Eddie looked very excited, and proceeded to do a little happy dance which he ordinarily wouldn't have done, but he was so giddy at the thought of Mr. Bean gone forever.

After staring at Eddie's happy dance, the Cleavers heard someone call "Hey, the train's about to leave mister, if you're getting on you'd better do it now." Mr. Bean looked around at them all and smiled as he backed away, backing into a luggage cart as he did so. Recovering from this, he got to the train door, gave them all a wave, and got on.

The others watched as the doors closed. They watched as the train slowly began to move. Then the second unexpected thing happened. Ms. Landers suddenly began running like mad alongside the slow-starting train. "Mr. Bean!" she yelled. "Mr. Bean! I'm coming to England! I will as soon as I can! Wait for me! Please wait for me!" she stopped as the train roared out of the station.

Ms. Landers walked back to the Cleavers. June said "But, Alice, moving to England? Isn't that a bit… impulsive?" Ms. Landers shook her head and threw up her hands. "Oh, June, it is! I've been reasonable and coolheaded and thought through everything my whole life! It's FANTASTIC to be impulsive! I have enough money, I can get there! I have plenty of experience, I'll get a job! And then maybe I'll…" she blushed "…marry Mr. Bean. Oh, I know it's all so sudden, and it's wonderful!"

Suddenly, Eddie yelled "Ah! Hey!" Everyone looked. A wadded-up piece of paper had smacked Eddie in the face. He unwrinkled it and held it out. They all looked. "He must have thrown it out the train window," Ward said. Written at the top, in pen, was the word "Thanks". Under it was a drawing of a smiley face. And, at the bottom of the paper, was "Will Wait".

* * *

-Epilogue-

 _Dear Ward, June, Wallace, and Theodore:_

 _Season's greetings, everyone! I hope the snow is as beautiful in Mayfield as it is here in England. It is hard to believe it's almost Christmas, the year has flown by so! I am sorry I've had so little time to write, things are so busy, settling into a new home in a new country. When was my last letter? I believe it was when we were on our honeymoon, wasn't it? Oh, my, I think it must have been! Again, where has time gone?_

 _How are you? How are the boys? I hope Theodore's doing well in school without me. I have a feeling he is, though, such a bright boy._

 _Well, don't let my letter keep your from Christmas shopping and decorating and all the other things that need done. I only wanted to wish you all well and happy holidays. Mr. Bean says hello as well. Merry Christmas!_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Alice Landers-Bean_

* * *

 ** _(Whew, pretty sure that was my longest story so far._**

 ** _Hope you all enjoyed.)_**


End file.
